Cinderella Story
by Vaako
Summary: Sophie has been turned into an old woman by an evil witch. Sent to the castle to work while her sisters find help, the spell begins to lift... But will she fall for the proud Prince, or the Wicked Wizard? Silliness ensues. HIATUS
1. A Lesson Learnt

The Cinderella Story

A Lesson Learnt

A man in stilts juggled three flaming torches. Every time he nodded his head sharply at a clown standing at the front of the crowd – more torches were added – until finally he could take no more. He fell dramatically; the torches flew into the screaming crowd... only to crumble into dust.

Sophie stood at the front of the crowd, laughing and clapping. The entertainer bowed before his audience and tipped his hat to Sophie, causing her to blush terribly. She allowed herself a little giggle at him, flattered and batted him away in embarrassment.

She stumbled off through the jostling crowd. The juggler shook a fist at her retreating and oblivious back and put his empty hat back on his head. "Cheapskate!" he called after her.

'I'm busy,' she reminded herself, 'no time to get distracted, you are supposed to be looking for trimmings...' … wait until she told her sisters a man flirted with her..

Trailing down the roads, she was not blind to how the neighbourhood seemed to get shadier as she went on. She had walked this road twice a month and yet she could never get used to it. She was always so terrified. She usually had someone else with her.

This was her first time on her own.

She sped up her steps and she walked through long narrow streets - eyeing the shifty looking people skulking around, as they eyed her back ...In a sinister way.

She walked faster.

As she hurried along she wondered that many people get lost in these streets, many, many people. Sophie was very glad she was not one of these people. She looked around herself with knowing tilt to her chin, as if she knew where she was going.

(...As if she knew she was heading towards the red-light district and wanted to get there _as soon as possible.)_

Yes, Sophie was sure _glad_ she knew where she was going...!

"..."

"..."

"Oh who am I kidding? I'm lost!" Her scream startled a young woman into looking her way. Sophie paused from mentally kicking herself and stared back, only to recoil in shock as the woman winked before performing a rude gesture involving flicking her tongue between her fingers.

The woman sashayed past her, snickering – causing Sophie to back up once more into something hard, making her yelp in surprise! It didn't feel like any wall, or a lamppost she'd every bumped into before... In fact… it felt a lot like a person…!

She spun away and looked up into the eyes of... (Would you believe...?)

Of a Leering Pervert!

"Eeek!" She screamed, spinning around three times with her hands over her face before dashing away. She had nearly made it into an alleyway when something clamped onto her arm. A man, a very, _very handsome blond man_, stepped out in front of her and smiled.

'This day is just getting worse…' Sophie thought.

"Hello, little mouse." He smiled again, like the cat that's had the cream. His smile was so dazzling it shocked her; it shocked her into stopping her pathetic struggles. (despite the fact she hated being called _mouse_... she was very sensitive about her ears.)

His dreamy blue eyes sparkled at her as flicked his hair back, "...you thirsty?"

Her mind suddenly went into overdrive and she 'reluctantly' imagined the possibilities. He was asking if she was thirsty; was he going to buy her a drink? Why would he do that?

...wait, thirsty? Was he merely being polite, thinking she looked thirsty, or was he attracted to her, feeling sorry for her...?

Or was this some sort of code...

- For _something else..._

"No!" She wailed, tearing her arm from his loose grip, "No I am not _thirsty! No!_"

The man frowned, confused. He watched her scurry away from him, looking frightened and twitchy – like a little neurotic mouse... and maybe this was imagination… but she also looked… aroused…?

…a faint blush crawled its way onto his face. He shook his head. He was just being a pervert, again. Then_ again _it was hard not to be when you've wandered into the red…light… dis…trict…

'Oh god,' He thought, 'she looked lost, she was lost… oh my god, and OH my god she probably thought I was hustling her… OH my god…'

It was no use. He was going to have to go and offer her help again – he'd start off differently this time, so she wouldn't think he was a pervert coming onto her –

"NO I DON'T WANT TO COME BACK TO YOUR PLACE FOR SOME _COFFEE_!" Sophie screamed/spat, "I don't _like_ coffee!"

The large man on the end of her ire merely laughed, before adding, "...neither do I."

The young girl gasped and spluttered, outraged, "Go away!"

Having seen enough, the blond man stepped in, waving a dismissing finger at the large man – who did as he was told and marched away, though his face was scrunched up in anger and confusion.

The blond man moved forwards and slowly reached out to tap the girls shoulder. Her hair covered her face and she shoulders shook.

"Little mouse, you seem to be lost, can I be of some assistance?"

She grunted at him, unattractively.

"Little mouse..." he lifted some of the hair covering her face, before dropping it as if burnt.

She wouldn't. She wouldn't _dare...!_

The girl sniffled – crying.

"I'm so sorry!" he cried out, feeling as if this was his entire fault somehow, "here, you tell me where you need to go and I'll walk you there!"

Sophie looked up and scrubbed at her eyes with a sleeve, "Mrs. Besom's Hat-Trimmings for Classy Wimmin's."

"Why, I know that place!" he cried, flinging his arms out wide, trying to seem comforting and friendly.

... The girl looked at him strangely.

- Did he sound like a pervert trying to hustle her?

- Did she think he was a pervert trying to hustle her?

-..._was_ he a pervert? No! He wasn't trying to hustle her! It wasn't his fault he wore such bright and fashionable clothing!

After walking down the street and turning a corner, then walking for a little longer and crossing a field, they found the shop.

"Well, we're here!" he cried, flinging his arms out wide... again. Why was he doing it? He couldn't stop! It wasn't even one of his _usual_ wild gestures! He just felt so bloody awkward...

The girl nodded hesitantly. She shot him a look and glanced away, like she wanted to say something or do something. He raised an eyebrow and was about to reassure her when she swung her arm out, whacking him in the stomach with a heavy bag, before charging into the shop without so much as a thank you!

He saw her silhouette pass the window and heard Mrs. Besom cry out in shock.

"Sophie, what an earth is wrong?"

"There was a weird pervert, who wouldn't leave me alone! he followed me all the way here!"

"Oh _no_, you _poor _child - Do you want some hot-chocolate...?"

To his incredulity, there was a sniffle, then, "...yes."

The blond man huffed and wandered away, "never again. Not worth it. Never again!"

Later on, as Sophie sat in her room decorating hats – which had always been her favourite hobby – she thought of The Strange Man.

The man was very kind and handsome, helping her find the shop. It was very handsome of him. It was nice having such a good-looking fellow strolling around being wonderful.

Sophie shook her head as if to shake away her disturbing thoughts and continued adding a lace veil – after all, she had no time for getting lost in thought! She had to make up for the lost time she spent... getting lost.

A/N: Enjoy! TBC soon...


	2. A Place in Things

The Cinderella Story

A Place in Things

_The man was very kind and handsome, helping her find the shop. It was very handsome of him. It was nice having such a good-looking fellow strolling around being wonderful._

_Sophie shook her head as if to shake away her disturbing thoughts and continued adding a lace veil – after all, she had no time for getting lost in thought! She had to make up for the lost time she spent... getting lost._

"SOPHIE!" came the voice of her stepmother, "Sophie! Aren't you _finished _yet?"

The hat she was working on was for her stepmother, who was going to a party in the next night. She'd thought she'd have it done by now, but she'd been distracted.

"Almost!" Sophie called back. A strange feeling came over her. Something was going to happen. Something she wouldn't like at all.

"Sophie."

The voice startled her and she whipped around, almost falling out of her chair, "Fanny! Oh, you, you scared me. Um, um, I'm afraid I haven't quite finished yet…" Fanny's eyes narrowed and Sophie cringed. She wanted so bad to please this woman, "But, I will, and-"

"Let's see this hat then," said another woman, stepping around Fanny. She was tall and imposing, beautiful and terrible with blue-black hair and cold humourless eyes despite the wicked smile her mouth was wearing.

"Lady Angorian!" tittered Fanny, "this is my step daughter, _the one I was telling you about…"_

The two women shared a secret look and Sophie felt that strange feeling of concern again. "The-the hat… isn't r-ready …yet…" Sophie's voice died at the look in the eyes of her stepmother.

Lady Angorian moved as fast as a snake, snatching the hat from it's stand. Flowers and feather that hadn't been sewn on yet flew in all directions, "Oh no-no-NO!" cried the Lady, "What are you trying to do? Make your stepmother look like a fool?"

Fanny gasped and looked at Sophie accusingly.

"No!" denied Sophie, shaking her head desperately at Fanny, "I would never!"

"I think she did it on purpose," said Lady Angorian, "I think you should punish this wicked child." Fanny looked uncomfortable with that so the lady continued, "I'll do it for you, yes?"

She strode towards Sophie, who flinched – half-believing the woman was going to hit her with her raised hand. But there was no pain. Just a pulling sensation at her clothes and skin, as if gravity had gotten heavier. After a moment when nobody spoke, she thought she might look up.

Fanny was staring at her in disgust, fear and pity. Sophie opened her mouth to ask what had happened, and why? What had she done to incite this anger? Why did she feel so… strange all of a sudden? But then Fanny was laughing, tears of merriment streaming down her face.

The two women circled her like sharks and Sophie hunched into herself even further. She'd rather be back in the red-light district than here!

"There, you see?" said Lady Angorian, and Fanny was nodding, hand covering her smile. And they left her there.

"See what?" Sophie asked the empty house, and jumped at the sound of it – because that hadn't been her own voice. Her low, calm tones were now creaky and croaky. She felt the need to cough. "What has happened to me? What did that witch do?"

She hobbled towards the small mirror, and what she saw made she scream loudly – and then clutch her throat in pain. "I'm-I'm-I'm-I'M OOLLLLLLD!" she wailed, turning the mirror this way and that, before glancing down and seeing how her breasts hardly filled her dress, yet her stomach and hips were pulling it tight. She screamed again.

Not only had they made her old – they'd made her fat too! She sat on her bed and held her head in her hands. After a while she parted her fingers and looked at the floor. On the floor, at her feet was the blasted hat, still unfinished… and unlikely to survive the day.

Sophie glowered at it. In fact that hat wasn't going to survive another minute! She stood over it, raised one misshapen old foot and stomped on the hat repeatedly until her hip begun to ache.

She sat down again and looked at the crushed hat. Then the hat popped back into its original shape, if a little more crumpled than before.

It was the last straw for Sophie, who had been trying to be strong. She didn't want to old! She wanting to be young, and go out! She wanted to walk, to explore every corner of the earth! She would not waste her life again making hats! She wanted… she wanted to... have babies!

"Ohhhhhh!" keened Sophie, "Ahooohooo!"

Even the sound of her crying sounded different!

"AhooAhuuahuuhuhuuuuaaaah!" warbled Sophie, who was really letting loose now.

"..Sophie!" it was Lettie outside her locked door.

"Sophie, let us in! Why are you crying?" that was Martha.

Her two sisters, her two young, beautiful, talented sisters with all the world ahead of them…

"Nooooooooo!" cried Sophie, in despair. She couldn't let them see her like this!

The door opened and she remembered how her little sister had a talent for magic. She tried to cover her face with her wrinkled hands, but they'd seen her.

"Who are you!" cried Lettie, in shock, "where's our Sophie?"

"Yes! Who are...Why are you crying?" Martha approached her slowly, "Do I know you?"

"No! It can't be…? Sophie?"

Then the tears started all over again. This time though; she had company.

Sophie cried herself to sleep and dreamt that everything was back to normal. But when she woke in the morning, joints aching and clicking, barely able to move… things were much worse than the night before.

"I'm sorry Sophie," said Fanny, not looking at her.

"It's fine," replied Sophie out of habit. It wasn't really okay, it wasn't okay at all! She was being kicked out of her home – her father's home!

And the reason? Well, she was old and couldn't work anymore! Ohh, but she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore. Crying was for babies and spoilt children! She was an old woman now, for heaven's sake!

Dragging her old feet, Sophie looked despondently at the person walking beside her, holding her up. "Lettie?" she murmured and she saw her younger sister grit her jaw as her eyes watered. Sophie turned to the sister standing on her other side, "Martha?"

Martha was emotionally stronger than both of her sisters, "What is it, Sophie?" she asked gently.

"..what am I going to _do_?" Sophie's voice broke on the last word. It broke her sisters hearts.

"Oh Sophie, we'll figure something out! But in the meanwhile, we got you a job at the castle."

"They were desperate for a seamstress and you always made such pretty dresses for us, so we thought…"

"It's gotta be pretty cushy at the castle, right?"

Lettie squeezed Sophie's hand, "Everything will be alright."

Sophie looked from one sister to the other, thinking that these were the two sweetest girls in the world, "Thank you," she whispered, "Thank you…" her brain woke up, "But the castle is miles away, how am I going to get there? I'm so old now - I won't make it in a day!"

"Michael said you can get a lift with him," whispered Martha, bashfully waving a boy over. "This is Sophie," she told him.

Michael nodded and wordlessly helped Sophie into the wagon. Possibly her was wordless because he was busy making goo-goo eyes at Martha – who was making goo-goo eyes back. Perhaps these goo-goo eyes were making his tongue-tied.

But most importantly to Sophie was that she hadn't thought Martha the sort of girl to make goo-goo eyes at boys!

'Shocking,' thought Sophie a little sarcastically, as the wagon lurched into motion, 'Nothing shall ever shock me again, after this'.

"So it's Michael then, is it?" asked Sophie as she was helped down from the wagon.

The boy had spoken barely a word to her during their journey, and now her turned to her with his eyes unfocused, "Hm?"

There was something about his manner, the way his mind was so clearly not in his body, which left Sophie a little shaken. She stared at him a second to get a grip on herself, "Michael; that is your name?"

"Oh, Michael, yah, yah…" said the boy, who then left his mouth hanging open a bit, as he unpacked the supplies from his wagon.

Sophie looked around and noticed the courtyard was empty, no one had come to help them unload the wagon. It was eerie. She looked to the boy, and he was frowning, his face a little screwed up as if he were thinking hard on something, or possibly was suffering wind, or possibly both?

"Are you quite alright?" she asked him, reaching for his shoulder.

"Huh, yeah, yeah, I'm alright, I'm okay, _ALRIGHT_?" Michael screamed that last word so suddenly and unexpectedly that it made them both jump. Sophie Shrieked in surprise, and the sound of her shriek made Michael shriek too.

"_ALIGHT!" _and the following screams echoed around the empty courtyard, sending crows up into the sky. Still no one came to help.

"I'm so sorry," he told her, sounding sincere, "I didn't mean to shout at you, or scare you. I'm just so tired, I can barely focus."

Sophie nodded and accepted her bags as he led her towards the servants entrance.

"No one's around," said Michael, stating the obvious, "There might be a fair in town, or an spontaneous ball."

"Spontaneous ball?" questioned Sophie, unimpressed.

Michael rubbed a sheepish hand through his hair, "Yeah we get those a lot, having a young 'Party Prince' and all."

'Great,' thought Sophie, 'I hate parties.'

She was led into a small living area. There were several doors leading out of the room, one of which she'd just entered through. The room was mainly a kitchen, with comfortable looking seats around the fire.

A large table with weird and wonderful carvings took up most of the room. "Cosy," said Sophie, leaning to get a better look at the engravings.

'Howl sucks donkey dick!' read one intricate design.

Maybe not so cosy.

Michael noticed where she was and what she was reading, his face was red, "Uhhhh! No! Don't read those - Just silly things…. Nothing worth reading, haha..." he laughed nervously and bustled her towards a chair.

"So when do I start?" she asked him, expecting him to know what she needed to know.

"Well… it's a bit late in the evening now, so I guess you start…" he was silent and thoughtful for a moment, "Whenever they call for you!" he finished cheerfully and more than a little unhelpfully.

Sophie stood there helplessly as he walked out the way they came in. She looked around. She was so full of questions and worries. Where would she stay? Where was the bathroom? What about pay, and food, and where was the bathroom?

Ohh, she was hungry. Her stomach gave an unhappy growl. Sophie frowned, "Been here not five minutes and I am already miserable!"

But eventually Sophie found the bathroom, and some food. Then, because once she started snooping, she couldn't stop, she found the storage cupboard, and a number of bedrooms. There had been nothing interesting in any of the rooms, until she found the big abandoned bedroom – the only one which seemed unused.

It was filled with all sorts of trinkets and charms and toys, and bottles and a huge bed covered in cushions. There were long rich curtains draped around the bed, dusted with age and time. The bedroom was very untidy and looked to have been abandoned for many years.

Luckily, despite lying unused, the mattress and bedding were not damp, and there was no sign of rot among the other furnishings.

'This will be my room,' she decided, 'I will clean everything up tomorrow.' The thought cheered her and she brought her belonging into the room, dressed in her nightie and climbed into the big sumptuous bed.

"Ahhh…." she sighed, relaxing.

She was very tired, and stressed, so nothing she'd noticed added up. Like the dusty empty room, filled with belongings and empty of inhabitants. It never crossed her drowsy mind that the room might just belong to a mussy, busy person who happened to work until late at night.

"Ohhh…" Sophie sighed, rolling onto her back.

Oh, Sophie.

It felt like second before she was rudely shaken out of her slumber, "Let me sleep," she told them and rolled onto her side. They shook her again, rougher. Sophie was not a morning person.

She reached out and grabbed a wrist, and leaned up to get a better look, but to tried to be really looking, "Let. Me sleep." She told them in her best threatening voice. It seemed to work and she was nearly out again, when someone shook her yet again.

She thrashed her limbs violently under the covers, "Go away, go away, go away!" she bellowed, too far gone with sleep to care at how she was acting in this new place.

Once again, her morning attacker retreated. She closed her eyes smugly. Then they reached under the covers and grabbed a bony ankle. Nobody had ever dared touch her ankle before! And now that she was an old woman she could only imagine it was for perverted reasons! "Help!" shrieked Sophie, "Help me!"

The door burst open, and the sleepy voice of Michael asked, "What are you doing?"

Sophie was about to ask him for assistance when the person _accosting_ her cried, "Michael, help me! There's some_thing_ in my bed!"

His voice was vaguely familiar. But from where?

"Aww, Howl, tha's jus' Ol' Sophie!" Micahel yawned, and waved a hand at the two of them, sleep made his accent stronger, "She's just an 'armless ol' biddy so you let 'er alone! I'm goin' to bed."

"But she's in my bed," moaned this 'Howl'.

"Leave it off Howl, she was travellin' all yesterday," said Michael, obviously bored with the situation. He yawned and wandered away.

"Yeah, Howl, leave it off, and get out," murmured Sophie, rudely.

Howl leaned over Sophie was whispered viciously, "Old woman. You are really annoying me. Do you not know who I am?"

"I know you're not getting out like you were told," Sophie whispered back just as viciously. The two locked eyes in a furious staring contest, as Howl backed out of his own room, a finger pointing as Sophie accusingly the whole time. He slammed the door after him as he left.

Sophie sighed and settled back into the cushions, not really fully awake yet, and already forgetting all that had transpired…

The door slammed back open and a huge hipped woman stood there, "Wake up!"

Sophie shot up in bed; her bloodshot eyes could barely say open. 'I hate this place,' she thought. "What is it?" she asked the woman.

"You're the new seamstress?"

"I am."

"I need your help!" The woman was near tears. Sophie felt pity for her.

"Shhh," she told the woman soothingly, "sit down and tell me what happened."

"It's my new skirt and all! I was wearing it, and, and it ripped, and don't ask me how or wht I was doing but it ripped, and, and-"

Sophie held the woman's hands and nodded along, but her mind was far away.

"And the rip goes right up the back, and I haven't another because I have had real bad luck lately and I need it fixed right away!"

"You hush now, borrow one of mine and I'll fix you're new skirt up for you."

"Oh," the woman cried in relief, "Thanks for not judging me! You're the best, Granny!"

'Granny!'

Meanwhile, Howl moved about the castle like a spectre, a half dead thing. He was moaning and groaning like an unsettled soul.

Well he had been unsettled, from his own room! By an arrogant old woman and his useless apprentice! How many years had he known that boy and he still backed up this woman before Howl?

That boy was going to be getting some particularly difficult errands. Howl hung his head and groaned. But that would have to wait until Howl could get some sleep. He'd get some sleep and then he's set the hard errands for his apprentice, then he'd turf the old hag out of his rooms – and give her a piece of his mind!

In fact – he passed a groomsman called Anthony and stopped to give _him_ a piece of his mind about the old hag lying in his bed, taking up the whole thing and kicking him out, and how now everyone was ganging up on him like it was his fault!

And what was she doing in his bed anyway? The last time he let a woman in there she'd been a beautiful _young_ woman by the name of Margaret!

Okay, Margaret was made up, but that was all!

On and on his rant went, until Anthony left and another poor sod accidently took his place and had to fend him off with their walking stick and some change.

Howl counted the change he'd been given ponderingly and stopped ranting, then an arm hooked about his neck and pulled him into a man-hug. It was a middle-aged gentleman in noble garb.

Howl tried to pry him off, as he unwillingly listened to this man's own rant.

"I understand, I understand!" the man was sobbing, "My wife did the same, my beautiful, Delilah! I woke up one morning, and this sour-faced cow was staring back at me! AND-"

"Here!" shouted Howl, dumping the change in the man's hands, "I have my own problems!" Howl ran off down the hall, leaving the nobleman miserably counting the change and wailing.

TBC


	3. A Mission for the Queen

The Cinderella Story

A Mission for the Queen

"_Here!" shouted Howl, dumping the change in the man's hands, "I have my own problems!" Howl ran off down the hall, leaving the nobleman miserably counting the change and wailing…._

Sophie was beginning to feel swamped. She didn't know how long this castle had gone without a seamstress, but there were people everywhere! All of them asking for "What _she_ was wearing!" or "What _he_ was wearing!" A mixture of this and that, and "Ooh, that too!"

Just a Sophie was about to lose her mind, there he was, like an angel...! No, wait, no… Sophie, no. Redo that.

There he was, like a fat ugly pig in a muddy puddle, looking all gross and completely unattractive, because she'd just worked out that the voice and the name Howl belonged to; The Pervert.

"I hate you," said The Pervert as he passed her on the way into his bedroom. The bedroom she'd taken over, because where else was she to sleep? She was new here and she had to exert her authority over someone.

But he didn't recognise her… and that hurt Sophie. For some reason, she'd had the crazy idea she was as memorable to him as he was to her! Apparently not… but would _anyone_ but her own sisters recognise her? Would she die, old alone and forgotten? And all alone? And… _forgotten!_

Just as she was gearing up to bawl her eyes out, a stately old- ah- _young_ woman walked into her work room. Sophie was immediately all business again, "What can I do you for, milady?"

"What charming rustic manners you have, Old Sophie! You are _Old Sophie_ are you not?"

"That I am, Milady."

"Wonderful," the noblewoman clapped her hands, "Now, I want you to make a suit for my son. It must be up to date in fashion, of course! And make him look gorgeous!"

"Of course…" Sophie squinted at her, as she looked a little familiar…"If you give me your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can, I'm a bit behind here."

"Don't be so silly, Old Sophie! I'm the Queen, of course! My son, Prince Justin, is up in the highest room, in the highest tower!" the Queen shrieked with impolite laughter and turned to look back at the previously unnoticed attendants blocking the hall, "SENILE!" …she must have intended to mouth the last part to one of her attendants, but she ended up screaming it in Sophie's ear. Her attendants tittered.

Then again, maybe the Queen was just a bitch.

"Yes, Milady," said Sophie, remaining polite – something that had been much harder since she'd gotten old. Not much to lose when you're old.

The Queen laughed again as she walked from the room.

After a pause as the hall outside her workroom cleared, the young woman in the old woman's body turned back to her sewing. It wasn't so different from working at the hat shop. Distracted by her thoughts, she stabbed herself in the thumb with a needle and swore, loudly. She was miserable and unhappy; and had no time to herself…

Just like every day that ever came before, Sophie who had no social life, (or dreams or ambitions) worked late into the afternoon, before giving herself a break.

"Michael, these people are like vultures!" Sophie complained, dropping her aching old body into a chair beside the boy.

"Things will calm down soon; so don't stress your old heart."

There was a peaceful silence between the two of them as they sat beside the fire, listening to the crackle of burning logs.

"Michael?"

"Hmm?"

"How do these… Ladies of Nobility get such huge rips in those dresses? What do they do, climb a mountain every night? Maybe take a little tumble down it too?"

"Well, there might be a little tumbling involved, but it doesn't involve mountains…" Michael seemed to struggle with himself inwardly, before giving in to his gossipy inclinations. He leaned towards her from his chair, "Let me guess; Lady Farrier?"

Sophie, sensing gossip, leant in closer too, "Yes?"

Moving even closer, and sending paranoid looks about the room, Michael whispered, "Stable lad; foreign - nice chap! I heard the pair 'ave been seen meeting down in the orchard and heading off into the bushes!"

They caught each other's eyes, expressions serious. Michael giggled and then stopped. Then Sophie giggled. And then they were both cracking up. It wasn't even that funny, and the busy room silenced, as those working there watched the old woman and boy laughing together.

Those watching didn't know why they were laughing, but the odd pair had become fast friends and were often seen giggling together about something or other.

But it was Old Sophie's laugh which entranced them and got them whispering. He laugh was so young and carefree, it took years from her. Even now her eyes gleamed with youth, and her straight white teeth shone in the firelight.

Michael's chuckles faded away and he watched his old friend with a smile, "Sophie, I bet you were beautiful when you were younger - like Martha!"

Sophie smiled almost bashfully, "Thank you, Michael; you're a sweet boy." They fell silent, and watched the fire. As Sophie watched the flames shrinking around the logs, she felt the past few busy days catching up with her.

She didn't mind being an old lady so much anymore; after all, it brought her here. But she was _sure_ she must be going Senile or something… because she could swear there were two eyes watching her from the fire. Old lady nonsense. Old lady eyes deceiving her. Perhaps she was senile, just as the Queen said.

Sophie sat up a little straighter upon remembering. 'That bitch!' she thought, 'Why if I were younger… I still would have done nothing because she is the Queen and can behead me if she chose to.' The anger drained out of her and she slumped again, even more tired than before.

Her eyes closed slowly, her thoughts washed away by the tides of sleep. But she regained enough consciousness to think she heard the fire speaking in a whispering, crackling voice…

"_You're not an old lady at all, are you?"_

_She almost opened her eyes; on the edge of sleep she wasn't even sure she'd heard what she thought she had."No."_

"_Interesting…"_

She felt like she'd only been asleep for a few minutes, but the sensation of being watched was an unpleasant, crawling sort of feeling not unlike spiders running over her… the thought that maybe she wasn't being watched at all, and that spiders might be running over her made her snap her eyes open.

And swallowed a scream.

Leaning over her was that extraordinarily and, coincidently, _infuriatingly_ handsome man, Howl! (To make it worse, she may or may not have just been having a rather pleasant dream about this very bastard!)

If she was younger then maybe, _maybe_ she would have blushed and stuttered, and then gone on to declare undying love or something. But she was old now, and no way would he ever even think of declaring his undying love back… and the way he was still leaning over her, looking a little disappointed, told her that he had _wanted_ her to scream. He lived to aggravate old Sophie.

Perhaps she should retch that scream back up, just to see the look on that outrageously gorgeous mug of his. But… she was… old now… and dignified, and patient. Calm and collected. Of regal bearing.

He was still there.

Sophie grit her teeth, "Get out of my face, young man; before I bite you."

"Hrmm, kinky. I should have guessed," he winked, and then became a little solemn as she peered at her face, "You look awfully familiar, you know."

"Know? Me? No. You no know me." It was panic that was making her so stupid, not his beautiful face! "I mean; _do I?_ You must be mistaken." There was no way in hell she was telling this loser. He was a pretty face, nothing more, and she didn't want him laughing at her.

Without saying anything, he stepped away, allowing her to stand. Her bones creaked and she chattered to Howl to show just how normal she was acting, "I wish I could sleep a little longer but I have to go measure up that damn Prince!"

"Treason!" exclaimed Howl, pointing his finger in her withered face, and backing towards the door, "I should tell the Queen and have you hanged!"

"Shut up." Sophie rolled her eyes and stamped on his foot as she left the room.

No, if he thought she'd forgotten about him kicking her out of _her_ bed, he was sorely mistaken.

As she gathered her work bag, cold draft worked its way up her crooked spine. She undid her old wiry hair, letting it curl around her neck, and pulled her shawl over her head, like the old babushkas.

Then she tried to remember the way to the Princes rooms, what was it the Queen had said? The Highest room of the tallest tower?

How very bloody vague.

While searching for the tower, or someone who knew where it was; she found someone she didn't expect to find.

"Fanny?" she called softly.

The woman turned from the balcony window and blinked at her - without recognition at first, and then – "Sophie! Sophie I'm so sorry! I can't believe it, the girls found you a job? They never said a word to me! I thought you'd dragged yourself off to expire under someone's porch!"

"I'm not a dying dog, Fanny," Sophie didn't even know why she'd called to her, "What are you doing here?"

"No tact at all, still! Ah… Sophie. Sophie, Sophie, Sophie, Sophie…" she shook her head, "Sophie Sophie, Sophie…"

"What!" snarled Sophie, "What, what WHAT?"

"Well I never! I expected _some_ hostility; but this? And to think I came all this way to tell you all I knew of the spell!"

"You know something?" asked Sophie, suddenly all politeness.

"Well I'm sure it's nothing that can help you now; unless you decide to fall in love with a ninety year old, or something."

"Just tell me."

"The spell can only be broken by True Loves Kiss!"

What the fanny-buggers was Fanny trying to pull? No one falls in love with a woman as old as she was now! You can love a frog, a toad, even a monster! But not a ninety year old woman!

First there was anger, then the rest of the signs of grieving followed remarkably quickly – so quickly Sophie doesn't even remember what they were. One minute she was angrily thinking of granny-fanciers, the next she was weeping.

As Fanny cheerfully waved goodbye, Sophie sobbed into her hands. A waterfall of tears cascaded down wrinkly face-cheeks, "I'm stuck like this forever."

It took a moment or two to stop and pull herself together. She had a job to do, and as long as someone needed her, she would not give up - even if someone only needed her to sew up their underwear after falling out of the peeping-tom tree.

After asking many questions of many people, she found herself at the Princes Tower by mere luck. She knew it was the correct one because the plaque on the door read 'Prince'. Why else would that be there?

Hobbling up the stairs she cursed her frail body. Everything clicked and creaked. Her joints creaked, the stairs creaked, the wooden beams creaked - even the bricks seemed to creak as the wind battered the tower.

Once she reached what appeared to be the final stair, she wanted to rest a bit to catch her breath. But the door opened without knocking. The Prince stood waiting, bathed in light.

'Ooh heh-heh-heh!' thought her un-aged brain, 'maybe these fitting sessions won't be so bad, with eye-candy like that!'

The Prince seemed a little uncomfortable with her stare, and Sophie felt amused. He probably thought she was a perverted little old granny.

Her mind halted...

Was she a perverted old granny?

Oh, who cares anymore? Certainly not her! She waved him out of the way so she could get past, "Old Sophie's the name!" As she stepped in, all her worries seemed to slip from her shoulders, she felt lighter younger, energetic.

"Prince Justin. Please, do come in. I assume you are the seamstress mother sent?"

"Ahaha, yep! That's Old Sophie! Ollld Sophie," chucked Sophie, thinking 'Oh my god, stop saying old Sophie, Sophie!' But her treacherous mouth repeated again as she set her bag down "ollld Sophie..."

"Yes…quite… an interesting nickname."

Sophie glanced around the room, and her mouth dropped open – why, the walls were covered in mirrors! What a vain boy! Even as she watched, he walked to a mirror and inspected his teeth.

Sophie mentally shrugged, and conversationally asked, "Why do you have all these stairs? Why not a nice room, on the ground floor?"

He laughed, "Mother is to blame. She's far too protective. She just wants no harm done to her only child …Incidentally; no magic may enter this room."

"What?" Sophie asked, throat constricting.

"No magic, no spells, no creatures of wild magic, no minions, curses, no glamour and etcetera."

Barely daring to hope, Sophie looked up at her refection. She was beautiful. Oh, not Howl-Beautiful, of Prince-Beautiful… she was beautiful in the way that your smelly old dog is beautiful when you return from a long journey. She was…pretty. It was such a shame, that she had not known this when she had it. If the Prince was to be believed she would be old again the second she left this tower. Disappointment washed over her, she pulled her shawl lower over her face.

Sophie wanted to sing or dance while she could, but she felt that this boy wouldn't help her much at all if he knew. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, and saw he was still preening. He hadn't noticed a thing.

She coughed into a young, smooth fist and tried to make her voice a little rougher, "Well then, yang ser! Lit's git yer measured up."

She measured his arms, chest, back, waist, legs – and he blushed the entire time. He was embarrassed. He'd seen the look she'd given him at the door and he was embarrassed to be touched by Old Sophie. Well good.

"Why do you wear that old shawl over your face?"

"Err, I can't stand to look upon me old withered visage, yer majesty."

"I…see…"

She finished the measurements as quickly as she could, and as she rushed from the room, she felt the weight of old age cripple her once more. She had to slow down and take the steps one by one as the Prince watched from his door.

And Sophie didn't like the look she was getting. Hopefully he wasn't one of those granny-fanciers.

TBC

A/N: I am finishing these stories once and for all (fingers crossed). I just want to get them done for goodness sake! Please enjoy :) Sorry for mistakes.


	4. An interlude with Prince Justin and Howl

The Cinderella Story

An Interlude

_She finished the measurements as quickly as she could, and as she rushed from the room, she felt the weight of old age cripple her once more. She had to slow down and take the steps one by one as the Prince watched from his door._

_And Sophie didn't like the look she was getting. Hopefully he wasn't one of those granny-fanciers._

Prince Justin watched 'Old Sophie' leave; waiting until she was out of sight before he followed her down. He followed her through the corridors, she was very slow and he wanted to over-take her a few times… but then the view from the back wasn't so bad if he imagined she was still young and firm under all those woolly shawls she was wearing.

As she turned to enter the servants' area, he continued past into the more abandoned corridors. Amongst the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, spiders spun erratically in their webs, trying to scare him off, or creep him out.

It was working.

Justin shuddered upon reaching his destination and finding a spider was spinning there on the handle. He tried to turn it with the tip of his finger, but the little blighter went for him. He knocked instead and waited for the door to be opened from the inside.

There was a bustling commotion inside and the smash of something being dropped, something being trodden on, something being tripped over and a long stream of curses that got louder the closer the person came to the door.

There was silence, and then a shrieked "Calcifer! _Calcifer!_ There's a spider on the handle!"

Prince Justin wondered if Howl knew he could be heard from the outside, and… who was Calcifer, anyway? He waited patiently a moment longer.

"Who's there?" called Howl, through the door, "You'll have to let yourself in, I'm very busy! My hands are full of dangerous magic!"

Justin lost his patience, "My hands are full, too!" he shouted, "With the kingdom!" And with a high kick raised and dropped his boot onto the handle, crushing the unfortunate spider, and sending the door flying open.

Howl barely evaded the door.

"Howell," drawled the Prince, picking at his nails, "I have a task for you."

"Your majesty, ah… I am a little busy right now… your mother has given me several tasks already…"

"I assure you it will be worth your while. It is a very interesting mystery."

"Worth my while, eh?" Howl scratched his chin, "Come on in, then!"

"I thought so."

The Prince stormed past him and took the one chair in the Wizards workroom. Howl leant against the mantelpiece.

"What's the big mystery, then?"

"It's a 'she' and she's cursed."

"…Is she indeed?" Howl faced the fire, his back to the Prince, "In what way? Bad luck? Gold falling out of her mouth when she speaks? You're being a little unclear."

"She's so beautiful… Howl, if you could have seen her in my bedroom you'd want to help her too."

Howl spluttered.

"But she is only beautiful in my bedroom -you know; because of the magic dampeners? Outside of my room she is a hideous old hag!"

"Old hag? Could you be speaking of Old Sophie, the mysterious old wench Michael brought back with him?"

"I have no idea who Michael is, but yes. Can you believe it? Young and beautiful! Cursed to become an old hag!"

"Sophie!" crowed Howl, "I knew there was something creepy about her!"

Prince Justin stood up "I'm going to need you to follow her, keep an eye on her and her curse. Tell me if anything changes; I want to be the one to break this curse of hers."

Becoming suspicious, Howl asked "Is she a game?"

"Not at all!" Justin shook his head, "No, she may just be The One."

Howl sat in the vacated chair, "Old Sophie. Sophie I knew I recognised you. Don't fall in love with _him_, please?"

The fire popped as Calcifer lifted his head, "Don't worry; Sophie is clever."

Howl looked up and smiled grimly, "Calcifer, we both know that is a LIE!"


	5. An Evil Day

The Cinderella Story

Evil Day

_The fire popped as Calcifer lifted his head, "Don't worry; Sophie is clever."_

_Howl looked up and smiled grimly, "Calcifer, we both know that is a LIE!"_

Later that evening, when he could have gone turfed Sophie out of his bed; Howl was instead still wondering if he should spy for Prince Justin. It seemed to him, a little dishonest.

"Should I? Should I really? Is it really any of my business? Is it? Calcifer? Calcifer? _Calcifer!_"

"What?" The fire demon looked up from where he was reading from a book How had put in front of the hearth for him.

"Should I? Really? Is it any of my business? Calcifer?" There was no reply again, and Howl kicked the book away, "_Calcifer!_"

"What!"

"…I'm not repeating myself again," Howl sat down on the floor and placed the book back for his friend. "You know what? Being dishonest has never stopped me before has it?" He sprang to his feet and pointed at the damp patch on the ceiling, "I will spy on the old crone!"

He drooped immediately after wards, collapsing into the nearby chair – a chair that wasn't nearly as comfortable as he would have liked due to him having left a pile of books there – he shifted uncomfortably, wondering if it was truly the chair making him uncomfortable, or the decision he'd just made…

It was the chair. Oh, he'd keep an eye on Sophie alright – if only to keep her out of trouble… but if she managed to fall in love with Justin, well… she was on her own.

But...

'What on earth am I going to do about..._That.' _thought Howl, sinking further into his chair.

"Come on now, Howl! You're giving the room bad vibes! Green goop, remember? Green goop!" cried Calcifer.

"What am I going to do?" groaned Howl, turning towards the fire, "what am I going to _do_?"

"Fine, I'll tell you," Calcifer turned his attention away from his titillating book; The Demon Lover, and rolled his eyes at the Wizard, "You're going to haunt an old lady today and then report back to me! I'll do all the figuring out – _as usual – _And actually; if you tell me where she is, I'll go visit her now!"

"No, no, no -no!" Howl stood up and began pacing, "I mean what I am going to do about the blooming Witch of the Waste!"

"Waste of space, more like – eh, Howl? …Howl?" Calcifer glared, blue eye brows rising, eyes bobbing, "Well, knowing you, you'll probably just keep running away! Actually, that isn't such a bad idea! Just keep running away!"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I need to think!"

Calcifer sank down and began reading again.

Also known as Lady Angorian the Witch was as beautiful as the night sky. Long blue-black hair; hourglass figure; dark, smouldering eyes… oh yes she was a sight to behold. But she was ugly inside.

She didn't understand cruelty, it wouldn't be fair to say she didn't know what she was doing because she _most certainly did_, but she was cruel like a small child is cruel - cruel like a chimpanzee is cruel.

He wasn't even near the Lady, and just thinking of her caused him much discomfort. Or maybe it was those books he was sitting on or the deal to spy on Sophie – or maybe it really was just the fact that Lady Angorian's beady eyes had settled on him as a suitor.

The thought made him sweat buckets, his eyes rolled from door to window, looking for an escape route. He wouldn't do it. No one could make him do it!

But she was popping up everywhere! The castle balls, the market, the bathroom, his bedroom – people were starting to connect them! Sometimes he was kicked in the street!

Fast forward three days, and Howl was getting kicked in the street again.

"Ouch! Hey! He-ey!" he yelped, "Hey! I'll kick you back! I'll kick you back and see how you like it!" He charged at the crowd kicking at them. Kicking is a hard thing to do when you are not a martial artist. If someone does not want to be kicked, they can avoid it.

Unless there are thirty of you.

Howl got tired quickly and the crowd – which mostly consisted of small children – circled him like sharks. It was no use, he didn't want to have to do it, but to get some peace - "I'm warning you! Don't make me use my magic!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would too!" Howl shot blue sparks from his fingertips, "And you'd deserve every curse!"

The crowd begrudgingly dispersed. Shaking their fists, they left the young wizard to pass through the streets unhindered.

Howl rubbed his shins, "Why does everyone hate me! I'm kind of nice!" He turned abruptly, leaning over the counter of a pots and pans stall, "But you love me, don't you? You pretty little thing!" he fluttered his lashes at the sweet girl there, who blushed madly; letting out a small, and unfortunately… insane giggle.

The moment didn't last long, as a large woman came wobbling up behind her and pushed her over. She leant over the counter, putting her face in Howls. Her breath was quite pleasant and minty, and her cleavage was to be envied! Unfortunately her voice was quite ear-piercing, …and insane, "Don't listen to his black magic, Pearl! He eats the hearts of young girls!"

The girl gasped, looking at Howl in fear.

"I do no such thing!" argued Howl, indignant, "I wouldn't even know how to prepare them!"

The woman rolled her eyes like it was obvious, "You get them cooked at the castle."

"Treason," smirked Howl, "to imply the Queen would let her Wizard eat human hearts."

"Then she doesn't know and you get some poor, heartless servant girl to cook 'em!"

"How can she cook, if she has no heart? Every Chef knows you need a heart to cook! Love it what makes the food so good!"

"Then you eat 'em raw, like a beast!" The woman grinned at him, "Beastly little beast!"

Howl gasped, quite offended, "You're a mad woman, and I will not parry words with you a moment longer! …and you're cleavage isn't impressive at all! In fact, it is very unimpressive!"

The woman's hands flew to her chest, and she glared, tears in her eyes, "I know young men like you! Nothing could hold your interest for long! You steal their hearts and leave them! Hollow and empty!"

Tears forming in his own eyes, Howl backed away, raising a finger to point at her, "you're wrong! Wrong and ugly!" He turned away quickly to hide his tears, missing the way the woman began weeping, too.

It was a bad day for all, _and_ Howl had managed to lose sight of Sophie, whom he'd been following. He'd followed her to the market, where he'd been distracted first by that crowd of disturbingly angry children.

He'd have to contact Calcifer, and have him locate her for him. Looking about himself to make sure no one was watching, he walked into the trees.

A little ways away, Sophie watched him go, suspiciously, and then curiously… and then suspiciously again. She was thinking of following him, after all; he had been following her on her boring day out.

She hovered nervously at the trees, before creeping in after him. As she stepped over tree roots and rabbit droppings, she thought of what the market women had told her of the handsome and apparently evil wizard Howl.

She'd played the character they'd given her, an old auntie out for bloody revenge.

"Oh no, dearie! Don't go after 'im! He's such bad news!" one of the ladies said.

"Yeah, he'll just blast ya to bits and pieces with his dark magic!" said another.

"What do you mean 'go after him'?" Sophie had asked, as it was him following her at that time, not her following him.

"It one of yer nieces he got?"

"Err…"

"Oh _no!_ Don't tell us he's _after one_!"

"Is that so bad? He's seems rather a handsome devil."

"Ooh he's certainly got the devil in 'im, that un!"

The other women gasped and they all began talking at once. And from what Sophie could grasp, she didn't want Howl anywhere near her niece, younger cousin, or granddaughter of a neighbour's sister. Apparently that would be a very bad idea - something about him eating the hearts, mind-control, soul-stealing etc.

But if you could nab him yourself; then you go for it girl.

"...way...ssst her... d...not nooo...at to do!"

Sophie stopped in her tracks. Someone was having a conversation – and it was probably that evilly-good-looking Howl!

"You _lost _her? She's an _old woman_."

"Technically; only sometimes, and you weren't there man - these big men started kicking me and-"

"Why did people start kicking you? Were you being yourself again?"

"I told you I don't know-Hey! Calcifer. Grow up, please."

"Just kick them back, next time. Don't let them literally walk over you."

"Kicking someone is harder than it looks, okay? And what should I do about you-know-who? Should I just back to the castle?"

"...I know where she is!" sing-songed 'Calcifer'.

Sophie had been peering from behind a tree, and from what she could make out; it seemed as if Howl was having a conversation with a fire.

"You do?" asked Howl, raising an eye brow, "Why didn't you say so before?"

"It – or rather _she_ only just occurred to me… you know, I don't think she'd appreciate it if I told you where she is." A face bobbed up from the fire and blinked directly at Sophie.

"What are you looking at?" Howl spun to look around at the trees "Is someone there?"

Sophie ducked, breathing heavily. A demon? He was _conversing_ with a demon? Did that mean; stupid, sexy Howl really was evil? And he'd been following her? Her heart was beating rapidly, and her eyes were watering.

Footsteps. Coming closer.

"Could Old Sophie be here?"

Sophie hadn't been able to kneel comfortable since becoming an old woman, but now she curled into as tight a ball as she could, praying not to be seen.

It seemed to work! Howl walked around her tree, before yelling "Or maybe she isn't here at all! Calcifer! You twisted annoyance! You could have _said_ something!"

Calcifer laughed, almost hysterically, "If she was here, she would have left a while ago."

"Is that some sort of code for, she _was_ here, but left?"

"Maybe..." said Calcifer, as young-Sophie ran back to the castle.

As she slowed to a walk through the streets, Sophie's mind continually went back to Howl, and the Demon.

He'd have to be a very strong wizard to capture a Demon... as from what she'd learnt from the grannies today; you had to give them something in return; like a heart!

It seemed so unreal. How was so human! He acted like he still had a heart! …maybe he _did_ steal hearts; to feed his demon. And he'd almost caught her. Sophie shook her head and he own stupidity.

TBC


End file.
